


fight off the light tonight and just stay with me

by hedgehogtongues



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, M/M, Mentions of alcohol, Slurs, Smoking, mentions of drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 11:01:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4346033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedgehogtongues/pseuds/hedgehogtongues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say Phil Lester's a no good bad boy. </p><p>Truth is, Dan's never met someone so nice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fight off the light tonight and just stay with me

**Author's Note:**

> i gave in and wrote my first phanfiction im so sorry grandma. 
> 
> disclaimer: i do not endorse the unsafe use of drugs and alcohol, nor the use of smoking. i merely use dan and phil as fictional characters in turn, this is purely a work of fiction, hence the fact this does not claim phan is real. i think that should cover it.

There was something mystifying about Phil Lester with all his giggling, silly jokes and the dumb animal jumpers he wears after school sometimes.

Dan couldn’t ever believe that the boy was someone that people drew curtains, slammed doors and peeked through the gaps of their key holes at. He was a bad boy. 

Bad boys aren’t meant to wear their uniform neat, but Phil Lester did. 

Bad boys aren’t supposed to help kittens in trees, but Phil Lester did. 

Phil Lester was so good at being a bad boy that he broke all the rules that society forced bad boys to follow. 

~

‘It’s Dan, right?’ Phil asks. 

Dan startles, ‘Excuse me?’ 

Barely morning, at least when Dan last checked, his locker door slams shut at the mere presence of the perplexing Phil and there’s not even a hint of flinching as the entire corridor falls to an underlying silence. 

There’s brief moments of tension before, ‘Your name is Dan?’

‘Uh, I guess.’ Dan replies, eyes trailing Phil’s leaning figure, so casually propped up against rows of hinges and smudged marker. There’s not even a mutter of words as a girl cautiously approaches her locker to only stumble away, noticing how nearby the bad boy is. 

‘You guess your own name?’ Phil raises an eyebrow and Dan just curses himself for being an inch too awkward. 

He only shrugs sheepishly, ‘I- Yeah. Maybe.’ Taking a moment, he breathes heavily before scrambling out, ‘Why, uh, why exactly are you talking to me?’

‘Because everyone else is too easy to figure out.’ 

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘It means that people spill secrets too easily. I just want somebody new.’ Phil disrupts his position, to only then place the back of his head to the lockers, exposing a pale, slender neck with only the smallest peek of purple under the collar of his shirt. Blue eyes trace the ceiling, admiring the light fixtures.

Dan purses his lips, ‘Phil, I’m not going to be your next fuck buddy.’

‘I wasn’t saying that,’ He replies, frustrated, ‘how hard is it to talk to somebody these days?’ 

‘Uh, well, you can’t blame me for thinking... things... about you.’ Dan replies, not meeting Phil’s burning gaze.

‘Fine.’ Pushing off the lockers with a kick, Phil stomps away and Dan’s feels only a twinge of regret watching Phil’s fleeing form.

He groans, ‘Phil!’ Dan doesn’t run. He isn’t desperate. He stands ramrod straight in same particular spot. It looks dramatically effective, despite the fact the corridor is much airy for this sort of screaming at each other. 

Phil stops to a halt, turning, embodied by an ensemble of bright, early morning light. He’s not saying anything, only a glare.

‘I’ll talk to you if you want.’ 

There’s a moment, then all Phil does is walk up to him, hands him a phone number and leaves. 

Phil’s quite simply a tornado.

~

Dan texts Phil in Maths. 

hi. i don’t know what you expect me to do. 

‘Dan, are you even listening?’ The teacher asks wearily. 

She’s a pushover, Dan thinks and just nods and replies, ‘Yes, Ms. Heartley.’ 

Ms. Heartley continues to talk about something Dan could give less of a shit about. He cares more about Phil Lester, for once, and how impulsive the boy is. It was a whirlwind of questions, curiosity and spontaneity packed tautly into a six foot male with a contrasting palette of colours. 

Dan’s phone vibrates, 

_talk to me. it’s pretty easy :P_

i don’t know what to talk about dickwad 

make up something?

fine. what’s your favourite band?

‘Dan, are you texting?’ Ms. Heartley questions, still completely and utterly worn-out. There’s rings around her eyes and her black hair is frizzy. She simply could do no harm as it seemed. 

‘Yes, Ms. Heartley.’ Dan replies with a sigh. 

Ms. Heartley purses her lips, ‘If you would, could you at least do it outside?’ 

‘Okay.’ Dan replies, picking up his bag and leaving with out complaint. There’s an intensity pumping in his blood as closes the classroom door behind him and revelling in the sight of empty corridors and the sound silence enrapturing him in a state of bliss. As much it is lovely, it’s much too creepy, the medical blandness of the occasional educational poster stuck messily against a completely white wall, he hurries out of the school doors and is refreshed by the clean, factory air of England. 

His phone sounds, something he hadn’t noticed earlier, and there’s a text,

wtf are you doing leaving the school

how the hell can you see me you hawk?

im at the bleachers and i can see a massive loser on his phone. you just concluded my case that it was you. 

Dan’s gaze goes straight to the bleachers, only to see a group of boys huddling around each with distinguishable puffs of cigarette smoke clouded around them. It’s quite obvious there’s Phil Lester there, hence the black fringe hunching over something. 

oh, you are there! i mean, i saw an emo kid so i thought it may have been you :) 

He glances back up only to see a teeny middle finger pointed straight at him. 

‘I hate you.’ Phil’s calling out, hands form to a cup around his mouth and he’s standing on top of the highest bench. In a flash, he’s then beckoning Dan over. Dan agrees. 

‘You’re a horrible person.’ is all Phil mutters once Dan cautiously takes a seat next to him. ‘And it isn’t emo, it’s totally alternative rock grunge.’ 

Dan laughs, ‘I didn’t know that was a thing.’ 

‘Wow, you’re, like, so uncultured.’ He responds, a tiny beam clearing up his sassy expression. Phil’s friends seem to be pointedly avoiding Dan, clustering in the corner with puffs of smoke wafting from above them. 

Phil stands up, ‘I’m gonna go.’ He bounds down the steps of the bleachers, bouncing off the last step and that’s not something bad boys do. They don’t bound off steps. They don’t bounce. They’re just bad. 

‘Are you coming, or what?’ Phil asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Dan startles, ‘Yeah, yeah!’ 

Phil supposed to be a bad boy but all he seems to be is some sort of angel. 

~

Phil lights up a cigarette and holds it out the window. Dan watches it blend against passing greenery, hands on the steering wheel and Dan still doesn’t know where Phil’s taking him. He asked, but all he got was lies. 

His fingers tug at his jumper sleeves, ‘Cigarettes kill, you know.’

‘So do people.’ Phil draws in a breath, his digits tighten.

‘Phil, murderers don’t get away with it.’

‘Sometimes they do,’ He replies bluntly, ‘they always do somehow.’

‘Maybe.’ Dan sighs. 

Phil side-eyes him, ‘Prison is nice when you think about it. Daily meals, hospitality, free health care... Better than our high school.’ 

‘Oh yeah, and the occasional abuse from prison guards. Real fun, isn’t it?’ Dan slumps in his seat. Phil’s morals are puzzling. Phil is too. An enigma. Open one minute, brooding the next. Dan can only empathise with him. 

‘It’s no different at school.’ He mumbles, turning a right and chucking the but of the cigarette out his window. 

Dan looks out the back, ‘Did you just litter?’

Maybe Phil is a bad boy. Maybe Dan’s just delusional.

‘I’m sorry, do you want me to turn backwards and grab it? Maybe I’ll let you hold it. You’re all too much like a trash can.’ Phil sneers. The car jerks to a sudden stop, the scenery of an old country road blurs Dan’s vision as he turns to face Phil and suffice to say, they’re amid a glaring war.

‘I’d be intimidated if you weren’t wearing an all-buttoned up uniform.’ Dan retorts, gaze carefree as he stares back at the road in front of them, ‘Keep driving.’

‘Pushy.’ Phil mumbles under his breath as the car sputters to life. 

Dan sighs, ‘this is a fucking rollercoaster of emotions, asshole.’ 

‘It’s more of a bad acid trip but whatever.’ He replies, shrugging.

‘Oh, wow. You do drugs too. How are you not dead again?’

Phil glances at Dan for one, two, three moments, ‘Controlled and responsible usages of non-harmful drugs are a great way to pass time. Perhaps your little textbook didn’t tell you that, hey?’

Dan purses his lips, ‘Fine. You’re fucking responsible. Go team!’

‘Yeah, go team!’ Phil punches the air and Dan’s unsure if it’s sarcastic or genuine but whatever it is, it’s vaguely adorable accompanied by a downing sun. 

~

There’s something mysterious about Phil. Sure, anyone he’s just met is a little inscrutable Dan assumes but all in all after a couple few hours of knowing a person, there’s bound to be at least an inch of knowledge but this fact is contradicted by Phil. He’s a different person every minute, and they’ve barely just met. 

That should have some goddamn warning signs as Phil’s begin pulling haphazardly into dusting country roads with a focused expression. 

Dan glances at him, lips tugging, ‘Do you murder people? Are you gonna murder me?’

‘I’m not sure if you’re just kidding or really innocent.’ Phil replies, the ghost of a smile and his eyes trail Dan’s figure, intent blue connects with a brown, ‘Dan, anything you heard about me is wrong if that’s what you’re implying.’ 

‘People aren’t idiots, Phil, there’s always some truth to even the biggest of lies.’ Dan protests.

‘We’ve only met,’ He pauses, ‘what’s your favourite band?’ 

Changing the topic once more, Phil gives him a meticulous glance and only then does his gaze turn entirely onto the road. 

‘Muse.’ Dan says. 

‘Same.’ Phil replies. 

‘Really?’

‘Yeah.’ 

Dan sighs, ‘Cool.’ 

~

‘You said earlier that people tell you their secrets.’ Dan points out. 

Phil sits opposite him, cross-legged, slender form accompanied by a healthy smattering of trees and the gentle soothe of a fluttering bird and he bites his lip, ‘Teresa’s cheating on Brian with Craig, Alexis is a lesbian and Emilia broke up with David because he has a small dick. I could tell you more but I think that’s enough.’

‘No, no... that’s enough.’ He’s not exactly sure to say. People would give their life not to have others spread their secrets, but then there’s Phil, blabbering them to some peasant in the hierarchy of high school royalty. 

Phil laughs out of nowhere, ‘I’m such a massive cliché, oh god.’ 

‘What?’

‘No but think about it! Like, dragging someone off to some undisclosed location in the woods, I smoke, I occasionally take drugs, I drink, and I’m just some stupid bad boy. I follow every damn cliché that I never thought existed. I’m just a suited up movie character!’ Phil has a foolish spark behind all the oceanic blue that swish in his eyes and he leans forward. 

‘Everyone’s a cliché somehow, Phil. I think you’re just a more profound one.’ Dan smiles at his eager outburst.

‘You aren’t.’

Dan tilts his head, ‘Hm?’

‘You aren’t a cliché at all.’ 

‘Nah, I’m probably like the guy standing in the back cheering when the guy gets the girl or something. I don’t have that much personality.’ He chuckles to himself.

Phil shuffles forward, an unconscious effort according to Dan, ‘I think you have plenty.’ 

‘You’ve barely met me.’ Dan replies.

‘Now that’s a cliché.’ Phil laughs, standing up with his long legs and peek-a-boo tongue. He wipes his hands on his skinny jeans before pulling Dan up with a grip as tight as any good bad boy. 

Dan looks around, ‘Are we going?’

‘Yep, it’s getting dark and bad boy or not, I don’t know how to make a fire.’

‘Wow, Philip here has some real personality!’ Dan giggles, following Phil as he winds his way through trees and sunlight alike. They stop at Phil’s dirty hatchback with the cracked back window and peeling blue paint. Dan’s eyes are too young and smile too bright, he can only wonder if Phil feels the same. 

~

Dan knows better not to approach Phil during school hours. 

It’s a ‘Dan must be seen but not heard’ rule he made up overnight, something that just popped up in his mind with not a lick of sense but he’s sure that it is needed. 

So the day went on like so. 

Dan saw Alexis in the corridor hugging an unnamed girl with grins on their faces and he smiled, then after that he saw Teresa and Craig making out when they thought nobody was looking and he scowled. Phil waltzed in and changed Dan’s outlook on their entire high school and it was barely home time. Mrs. Heartley, however, wasn’t in Maths that day. Their principal explained something about her being ‘out of line’ and Dan tried not to feel entirely guilty but she was quite literally falling apart at the seams. 

After school, Phil was standing by his hatchback with a cigarette hanging out of his bloodied lips. Eyes painfully tinted a dark purple and slightly swollen, blue eyes turned grey as the painted sky, all tied together with a cut on his cheek. Dan couldn’t help but walk over with a nervous smile.

‘How many lions did you encounter today?’ He asks. 

Phil’s tie is tugged askew as he chuckles, something throaty, ‘Three. Three really ugly, douchebag lions.’ 

Dan gave a sad smile, strained at the sight of bruises coating the face that was only last night coated in evening light, ‘Why did you fight?’ 

‘For some stupid reasons. I’m not really sure.’ Phil leans against the car door, holding his cigarette jerkily to his red lips once more and Dan then only notices how bruised and gory the pale knuckles of Phil’s are. He winces. 

‘Uh, t-there’s still some blood, you know, on your lips.’ Dan says, ‘And, like, on your knuckles.’ 

‘There is?’ Phil asks, as if brutally unaware, before wiping his mouth across his sleeve with a pointed gentleness and glancing at it. ‘Oh. There is.’ His usual dirty, crazy flicker of irresponsibility is dimmed down to something more frightened, scared and it’s unfitting for Phil. 

Dan lends a sorrowful beam, ‘They really put a number on you, hey?’ 

‘Maybe.’ Phil chucks his dwindling cigarette away and purses his lips, ‘Mind going on an adventure with me?’ 

‘What, are we explorers now?’ Dan asks, matching Phil’s enthusiastic tone and the other nods. 

‘Dan and Phil, countryside explorers. Or maybe just the forest a couple kilometres out of the general population.’ Phil laughed, beckoning Dan to the passenger seat as he himself clambers in. Dan can only hope Phil doesn’t get as existential he did as he did in the last drive. 

‘That’s all we need, right?’

‘Indeed it is.’

~

Dan didn’t ever think that trees could ever become familiar, especially after only seeing them once, but the route all the way to the little clearing where Phil seemed well eager to show the boy seems like something Dan would wander to sleep walking. That’s not the case at all but it’s still nice to think about.

It barely touches on evening as they ring their arms around trees to creep across a layer of leaves and sticks. The small clearing with the occasional sprouting of shrubbery comes into view as they both cross the legs and ankles kiss the other. 

‘It’s really peaceful here.’ Dan comments.

His eyes meet with the now cleaned-up face of Phil Lester, heavily encased in the soft sunlight of skies being cleared. Phil’s eyes are back to their usual curious blue charm and so is the atmosphere. Dan thinks he’s sentient with the sky.

Phil smiles to himself, ‘It’s a nice spot to sit and think. Just, you know, bring your IPod and listen to stupid Taylor Swift songs.’

‘Bad boys don’t do that.’ Dan mentions, tilting his head. 

‘Yeah.’ He pauses, glancing at the horizon despite it only being a crowd of trees, ‘I guess they don’t.’ 

‘If I’m to be honest, you really suck as a bad boy. You say that you do all these bad things but then you go around and do things only nice boys do.’ Dan ponders, still keeping his gaze on Phil and notices a pink across his cheeks. 

‘Maybe.’ Phil replies only to have the tiniest smile to contradict all of his large bruising. 

So they sit and talk for a while, sun overhead to then only fall down, down, until only a slither of it is to be noticed as it lays along the tree line as Dan and Phil have philosophical discussions about things that seems too advanced for somebody of their basics, being only the humble bad boy and useless extra. Things like that didn’t bother to them, however. 

Both creep through the forest once they realize that their shadows are too overwhelming compared to the streaming sunlight and more than Dan would like to admit he’s vehemently sure that they may just re-enact The Blair Witch Project.

The car doors shut behind them and Phil starts up the car with a chugging rumble. 

‘I mean to ask you,’ Dan starts, catching Phil’s secondary attention, ‘what are you doing on Saturday.’

Phil pauses to only then bite his lip, ‘I-I’m going to a party.’ 

‘Oh.’ Dan can only notice the whiteness of Phil’s fingers as they tighten around the steering wheel, the intent stare on the road, plaguing the blue of his eyes with white fury and how conflicted he seems. In fact, he’s practically radiating how much he’d rather ask Dan what he’s doing on Saturday than going to the party.

But Phil doesn’t like talking about himself. Every topic change is something Phil wants to avoid about himself. He’s a dark corridor that himself is running down at any given moment.

‘If you were saying what I think you’re implying, then I’m sorry about the change of plans.’ Phil mumbles.

Dan just shakes his head, ‘It’s okay.’ 

~

Saturday night and the only thing Dan’s been doing is kicking ass on Mario Kart.

Midnight comes and goes, and only a couple hours later, Dan’s pausing the game to grab a cup of Ribena from the kitchen, hoping not to wake his parents. 

The lace curtains ruck up to reveal the moon and his next door neighbour’s housing, all copies of the other with different gardens. It’s only one particular thing that catches his eye. 

Dan doesn’t believe in fate but once he sees the tall, emo guy wandering his street in an adorable animal jumper then he’s immediately believing something is out there for him to practically whisper-shout, ‘Phil!’ until his voice is hoarse. It isn’t exactly his fault that Phil is deaf in the first place. 

However, Phil does manage to glance at him on the fifteenth call of his name, eyebrows furrowed and scowl present, but the expression lightens as he jogs closer and with a huff, he breathes, ‘Dan?’

‘What the fuck are you doing out here? It’s 2 am!’ He anything but whispers, pulling Phil inside without a thought by the material on his shoulders. Closing the door, he drags the boy into the kitchen.

He smells faintly of alcohol and sex, which isn’t exactly the most alluring scent, but its proof he was at a party. 

‘What the fuck!’ Dan sighs.

Phil rubs his neck, ‘Hey.’ 

From what Dan can see, Phil isn’t even drunk. In fact, he looks a little upset if anything, swollen eyes not from a fight, but from... crying, it seemed, with the earlier brown of his bruising accompanied by an sleepless purple. 

‘What are you doing walking out on the street?’ Dan asks. 

‘Uh. Walking.’ Phil avoids the question solely because it’s about himself. Something he always does. Because Dan wants answers to everything and Phil clearly wants him to stop. 

Dan yanks on Phil’s wrist as gently as he can despite the fact he wants to break something, ‘I swear to god, Phil, you need to stop evading what I’m asking. Fuck off with the mysterious stuff.’

‘Uh,’ Phil glances at Dan’s grip on his wrist before his gaze moves as much around the kitchen to then fall anxiously on Dan’s eyes, ‘could we, could we talk somewhere else then?’

Dan’s expression turns sour, before pulling Phil along to his bedroom, ‘Fine.’ 

His bedroom is lit up by only the dimmed TV with Mario Kart on the screen, Dan’s Mii about to red shell Princess Peach and he presses a button because he dislikes how dark the room has become. Phil’s expression becomes unreadable as he inspects Dan’s room only to sit on his bed awkwardly, sleeves pulled up. 

‘Well then.’ Phil bites his lip. Dan hasn’t seem him so alarmed, so out of place, every other way he’s encountered the boy has been so fitting for him and his charming smirk and lively blue eyes. Now, Phil’s deflated.

‘Well then you’re going to tell why the hell you’re alone on a road?’ Dan doesn’t even care that he sounds like a bitchy mother. Maybe because he’s bitchy for one.

‘I just... I just kinda didn’t want to stay at the party.’ Phil pauses to only then scrunch his eyes tautly, ‘Erm, uh, Bradley basically forced me to have sex with him and... yeah.’ 

Dan freezes. ‘Bradley? Absolute dickhead Bradley who abuses girls and has the anger issues?’ He pulls at his hair, ‘Phil! Why the fuck didn’t you say no?’

‘Dan, I can’t say no.’ Phil shakes his head and pulls his knees to chest, ‘I’m Phil Lester. I’m a bad boy. I have sex with everyone and everything.’ There’s an ashamed tone in his voice and Dan doesn’t wish it to be there. Because that’s the horrific truth that Dan was too stupid to see past. Because Phil’s only a slut because people assume him to be. 

Dan huffs, ‘Of course.’ He falls into his couch, ‘You’re just Nice Boy Lester. I said it earlier. You’re too nice to turn people down.’ 

Phil’s gaze is on his shoes, before shooting to watch Dan’s darkened side of his portrait, ‘I- Yeah. It just started with that one guy, then five more, before there are people who comment how much they enjoyed last night was and the truth is I don’t even know them. Then I’m labelled as a slut and I have sex everyone and I can’t-‘ his voice cracks, blue eyes wide with tears, ‘I hate it. I just hate it so much. I can’t say no because imagine the next day, god, ‘Phil Lester says no to sex!’ and just, fuck,’ His hands covers his face and rub his eyes, ‘I’m so done with it. I’ll be fucking ecstatic once I graduate this school.’

Dan feels his eyes prick with tears the moment the ‘Phil Lester’ facade falls, just Phil, fingers wiping away the flood of tears that just seem to be dropping across his jeans and running down his wrists, and within moments Dan wraps his arms around the shoulders of the boy with the dimmed blue eyes and valid concerns. He leans into Dan’s touch and his face presses into Dan’s pyjama shirt and his hands ball up in the same material. 

‘I think this whole thing is fucking horrible because you’re a great person. People can’t look past your appearance to see how nice you are.’ Dan mumbles into Phil’s hair. 

‘Thank you.’ Phil murmurs into his shirt. 

It’s silent for the time being, Dan rubbing Phil’s back as he just weeps into his shirt, both thinking about the matter at hand despite not saying anything to help the mood. 

Phil pulls from Dan’s grip and uses his sleeve once more to brush away teardrops, ‘I should get going now. Uh, thanks, Dan.’ He avoids Dan’s pitying gaze saying this.

‘You shouldn’t go driving in this state.’ Dan argues. 

Phil looks sheepish and tries a smile, ‘I left my car back at the party. I-I’ll just pick it up tomorrow.’ 

‘No way, I’m not letting you walk home.’ He follows Phil out his bedroom door. 

‘Dan, my house is just down the road. I promise.’ Both stand outside Dan’s front door with opposite expressions, Phil’s being reassuring and Dan’s being stern.

Dan grumbles, ‘Pinky promise?’

Phil’s lips tug and his own pinky curls around Dan’s, ‘Pinky promise.’ 

He creeps out the door and continues on his way, not bothering to look back despite the fact Dan’s still watching. However, after a few moments he stalks back to his room feeling much too exhausted, crawling into bed and avoiding his dimmed television for the rest of the night.

Only in the last moments of consciousness that he realizes Phil’s house is nowhere near Dan’s. 

~

Phil still has that shit-eating grin next time Dan sees him. 

Dan didn’t exactly expect him to be different. Phil probably has lived with the entirety of his bad boy attitude for years, despite it never being the person he is and Dan’s sure that the majority of people here copy him. But Phil’s manipulated the entire school, not just a group of people. Not even the most cunning of people can hold such a feat for so many years.

Dan closes his locker and Phil strides down the hallway with a charming demeanour, but the facade fails the moment they trade heartfelt glances. Then it ends, as if Phil isn’t enough of a tornado.

He even sits next to Dan at lunch for a few moments, having ditched class, but they don’t talk about Saturday night. 

‘I see your eye is healing.’ Dan points out.

Phil touches it weakly, ‘Yeah, it is. Which is pretty good, I look less like a freak show now.’ 

Dan wants to say that he never looks like a freak show instead he just replies with a tight smile, ‘You always look like a freak show.’ 

‘Offended.’ Phil snorts and gives him a charming grin.

After school, however, Phil invites Dan over to his shitty blue hatchback and wants to go exploring again.

‘We just go to the same spot.’ Dan argues.

Phil just shakes his head, ‘No way, I always see something new when I go there.’ 

‘I don’t.’ Dan replies, a teeny smile formed on his lips.

‘You don’t look hard enough, come on, this time just look for something new.’ Phil asks him with a convincing little pout. 

Dan wants to point out the dark rings under his eyes and sunken in features but they were never new in the first place, ‘Fine.’

The car ride is nothing new. Phil rambles on about things now, however, and is pointedly avoiding Saturday night with all his might, not even to mention all of the pitying glances he’s receiving from Dan. 

When sitting in the clearing today, they don’t sit opposite each other, instead their thighs touch and fingers overlap but nothing’s too romantic however Dan can’t help but feel the warmth of the contact. They keep talking deep into the night, and Phil didn’t want to leave, so they didn’t and just stuck their IPhone on with the flashlight to illuminate the space they sit in. 

‘Can we just, er, address the elephant in the room, please?’ Dan asks, gaze washing over Phil’s slender figure. 

He sighs, ‘I do remember what happened Saturday night.’ 

‘I know you do,’ Dan mumbles, ‘I just keep wondering whether or not you’re still... good.’ 

‘I was always ‘good’, Dan.’ Phil glares.

Dan rolls his eyes, ‘I know. Emo.’

‘Nerd.’ 

Eyes meet in the middle. A sparkling blue, lit up by the brightness of a more than helpful phone and it’s only inciting the heavy need to kiss the bad boy attitude away. So he does. 

Phil’s lips are warm and he doesn’t pull away, only forcing himself on by wrapping an arm around Dan’s neck and another caressing his cheek. He quite simply would be a dirty liar if he’d to say Phil wasn’t phenomenal at kissing, but then it just reminds how damn experienced Phil actually is. And how delicate he is. Phil’s known for sex but not for romance. 

So Dan runs his fingers along Phil’s sides softly as the other gains entry to Dan’s mouth, and the wandering digits fall around the hem of his shirt as they daintily crawl under the shirt to tap across the small of Phil’s back. Then Phil’s hand tenderly handles Dan’s wrist and he pulls away, both left to stare in each other’s eyes.

‘I don’t want this to be something bad, Dan.’ He whispers, ‘Because I really like you. And my hips are bruised, my back is covered in these disgusting scratches and I’ve had more hickeys than you’ve had hot dinners in your life. I don’t want you to see me like this just yet,’ Phil brushes a thumb along Dan’s lips, ‘because whatever this is, it shouldn’t be sex in a countryside. It should be nice and wonderful. We should be the declaration of love, not teenage hormones.’ 

Dan just smiles and uses his hands to brush away the happy tears on Phil’s cheeks, ‘I’d love to be that.’

**Author's Note:**

> ahaaaaaa i should be writing my big bang fic


End file.
